Pardon Me
by Celtic-Memories
Summary: During the time Wesley Gibson was being recruited by the FRATERNITY there was a woman in the sidelines just as powerful and dangerous: ANNIE. Only she didn't know it until later when she enters Wesley's story and his and her life change forever.
1. Intro: A Typical Day for Ms Obedient

_NOTE: This is my first attempt at making a fanfiction for any movie that doesn't involve a series. I DO NOT OWN any of Wanted characters which goes directly to the creator of the original comic. I do, however, own my original characters gradually presented in the story. Have fun reading and please review. Be honest and precise._

_Sept 14: I've redone the dream scenes in italics and rephrased it to provide more clarity. Hopefully it worked. Thanks for the input iplaythefish. Anyways enjoy my stories and I'll try not to put too many authors notes to distract from the story.  
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><p><strong>Pardon Me<strong>

**Introduction: A Typical Day for Ms. Obedient.**

"Pardon me," a frail whisper was barely heard amongst the eager, ongoing bustle of New York City.

"Pardon me," another whisper.

"Pardon, pardon me..." Repeated again and yet again.

My voice was strong but I whispered ever so softly. I have a habit of being apologetic in every situation, even when I'm not at fault. Someone bumped me in the crowd, making the quad coffees I ordered for my boss, my boss's assistant, and his assistant, and that assistant's secretary, spill on my plain blue business blouse. That was the most coffee I would ever get, a big ink blot splash across my front. Coffee was never my friend. The one time I drank it all I remember are spikes of insanity and overabundance of joy that I immediately henceforth severed coffee from my mouth. I winced from the pain of the hot drink on my chest, but not before habitually uttering 'Pardon me,' under my breath and running across the street as the neon sign signaled WALK. I never walked. No time.

Every day was the same, and even the weekends when I was off work, somehow my days magically presented itself in the 'Same' category. Sleep was the same as well.

My nightmares were endless:

_I'm going through my old belongings, cardboard boxes duct taped on the sides and bottoms. I look through them and find dozens of photographs with a picture of me in my broad rimmed bifocals, scrawly hair do, and light blue business blouse, holding up the camera to the mirror in my apartment bathroom with a cheesy grin that said 'Congratulations on your new promotion, while I'm stuck in the dump, bitch.' I gasp in horror and shut the boxes._

Then I would wake up. Another reoccurring nightmare:

_I walk down a corridor in the company I work in, Estee Lauder Inc. It's dark, all the doors have light seeping through the cracks. My urge to open them is great, and so I do. I open the first door and all my employees yell out 'Surprise' as a blinding light makes me squint my eyes. When my eyes adjust I see my cubicle, empty, with one message written on the monitor._

_'DYKE DIANA CARMICHAEL!'_

_I immediately start hyperventilating, and hoping for a better scene I run from the horrendeous sight and advance towards the other doors. I open up another door but no! My high hopes are shattered as the same scene repeats itself over, and over, and over again._

...Until finally I woke up in a hot sweat while my apartment was only 60 degrees due to not being able to afford heat. I would wrap the cheap covers around me and try to shiver myself to sleep, though my eyes would stay wide open and explore the lights outside my curtainless window. The chattering of my teeth would be a lonesome pounding sound like an avalanche waiting to crash into my skull. After a short while my teeth would slowly cease their dying struggle to make my jaw cave in from pain. Then I would lay awake for hours, asking myself a series of questions, questions I would never hear in interviews, or street bars, or those parties I never get a chance to participate in except on New Years due to half the interns taking a vacation to Switzerland or Paris. Lucky them.

When I finally did go to sleep it was almost time to wake up. I set my alarm to ring three times, once at 6am, another at 6:30, and the last at 6:45. Every morning I miss all three alarms. The worst feeling is waking up at half past 7 knowing you have to pick up the boss's triple splenda decaf, the assistant's mocha, and the other two's artificial hazelnut cream with 1/4 cup sugar each, and all at 3 different coffee shops! How many coffee shops can there be in Midtown Manhattan? I was devastated. But it was their bodies to ruin and hack to pieces with invisible chemical needles of pain, and my continuous pain that assured it. I was just the messenger, or rather the deliverer. Don't shoot me!

So... this morning was the same as last morning, and it was happening to the SAME people. The huge city clock was 3 minutes before 8 and I was still running across the streets, about 1/4 mile from the office building for Estee Lauder. As I neared the cubist sheer glass building I let out my usual sigh, the rumbling breath before a huge headache and meltdown that I had to suck into my stomach and devour whole before it ate instead. I felt the clock struck 8 as I ran in the door, bumping into two more people on the way and uttering two more 'Pardon Me's' before jumping into the elevator and rapidly pressing floor 37. I was in for several 10 minute cursing that day, one for being late AGAIN, two for spilling half the coffee on the floor, three for shaking the coffee excessively causing it too cool to body temperature in mere seconds, four for displaying a self-neglectful stature to the entire department due to the little coffee accidents, and God, I forget the rest of the many reasons but they are at the tip of my tongue. I knew why I was never fired. Despite my 'laziness, tardiness, and slumpy attire' I was RELIABLE. For heaven's sakes I never miss an order! I am Ms. Obedient! I ride 1st class on Obedient Amtrak.

I lean against the back of the elevator, heaving in and out crazily, trying to calm down and make my flushed cheeks pale before presenting myself to my employees. It was useless however. It always was. I wake up frizzy and exhausted, arrive at work frizzy, exhausted and messy, and leave work frizzy, exhausted, messy, and copped out. Mess. Frizzy Obedient. No change. Plenty of pain. No gain. An endless cycle of dizzy New York City. Shall we start over again tomorrow?

...No.

Because the elevator did something funny today. And I forgot my laughing pills.


	2. Witness

**Chapter 2: Witness.**

The elevator lurched, and the coffee I was holding with it. Not noticing two men in the tight little crawl space with me coffee splashed all over their fancy suit jackets. I gasped and immediately blurted 'Pardon me' twice to both of them. They hissed their breaths out and held their hands out towards me as if to shield their eyes from blinding light before taking out their cell phones to have spare t-shirts delivered to the elevator door immediately. Lucky bastards. I knew then my role. As shunned as a dog after littering on the owner's electrical outlets, I turned to the corner and kept the coffee shielded from anymore people who would enter.

Then the elevator did another funny thing. It stopped in its tracks and I grunted, trying to balance the coffee and my shaking legs in their skinny 3 inch heels that I hated to wear but was obligatory for the job. No flats! It was a joke seriously beset by the girls I worked with. Was it my height? A demanding 5'9" and a towering 6 feet with the damned things on. I never complained... It was a sort of mockery I guess, to be tall and invisible. To have a tall awkward girl be in charge of messes, outfits, and arranging appointments instead of actually being in a meeting and instead of actually wearing the thousand dollar dresses I selected meticulously.

The coffee spilt more nevertheless. The lids never stayed on and ALWAYS broke in my care. What else broke in my care? The list would shatter many little girl's dreams of ever being in the fashion industry. I was the perfect role model for Dream Shatterers. Call me at 1-800-Dream-On.

I gasped as the lights in the elevator shut out. It was pitch darkness and my two men guests were cussing horrendously now, complaining about cell phone reception and 'interference'. My cell phone! Shit! I left it at my apartment! Now I had really done it! No way the boss would let me go this time. All his contact numbers were on there, their agents' numbers, wedding planners, social lists, limo-drivers, etc. etc. I was screwed more than used plywood. I was panicking in the dark, worrying about my job, my apartment knowing I wouldn't be able to make the payments in another 3 months when the lease ended. I would be kicked out on the street and doomed vagabond Ms. Cell Phone Forgetter. I would be a nobody on the streets instead of a nobody intern in the fashion industry.

Thinking too hard on this made me nervous. And twitchy, not to mention slightly paranoid. I was completely oblivious of the gravity of the elevator situation. My take on the whole thing was more spilt coffee, messier me, bitchier associates who would complain about me to my superiors no doubt, and being even more late. Late late late. Hopefully that was the worse and I wasn't fired. I remember one hazy day 2 seasons ago, the one other time I failed to bring my cell phone to work:

"Good Morning Ms. Stevenson," I fumbled fixing my glasses for the hundredth time as I hurried past many cubicles while following Stacie Stevenson, my boss's assistant. She was the neediest when it came to fashion, my boss was the neediest when it came to food. The next down the line assistant and his secretary were just plain needy. I was accustomed to this line of life so I never uttered a complaint. I always uttered apologies.

"You're going to trip if you don't calm down." Stacie retorted. Her voice always sounded like an advice columnists in action, with an edge of sarcasm that would only be detected if it was directed at you. I detected it. "And how many times must I repeat, call me Stacie."

"But Ms. Stevenson there are four Stacies in this department-"

"Yes, and we are on last name terms with them and NEVER with me. They are not allowed to be called Stacie, Stace, or anything close to the sound 'St'. While I'm around, they're _stuck_ with my rules."

"Pardon me, Stacie."

"You got my coffee?"

"Yes, Stacie." My hand was two seconds from handing her coffee when she rejected the offer.

"Not in the mood, intern."

I wasn't about to point out to her that there were 20 other interns in this building and they could all easily turn their heads in her direction. But they didn't and I never spoke up.

"I need Civo's number and address for the upcoming party. I need the invitations sent out by 3:00. The fax machine needs fixing again. Zach needs his coffee before his big meeting." I had cringed at the name 'Zach' my boss's name. Her overuse of the word 'need' was normal, for her.

I had immediately reached my pencil skirt pocket for the Razor cell when my eyes widened in shock. When I didn't answer Stacie right away she turned back towards me with threatening eyes. "What is it?"

"I-I uh..." My voice was a low stutter.

"Spit it out I haven't got all day."

"I've left my cell phone home."

Did I mention that Stacie was deep brown haired, had bright orange red lips and thick mascara that only deepened her cocoa brown gaze? I was intimidated by her reaction.

"I need to contact Civo. _Now_."

"I beg your-"

"Shut. Up," she hissed. "You are fired and I never want to see you again."

"I'm an intern, Ms. Ste- Stacie, you can't fire me, only Zach can."

"What kinda bullshit order is this? While he's not around, I'm God, so shoo. I'll find someone else who's more reliable." She flicked her hand in front of her as if I were an annoying fly.

I immediately panicked, my blood boiling as I hastily responded, "I can get my cell phone within the hour, I swear I'm reliable. It won't happen again. I NEED this job, Stacie." Even through my stuttering my voice seemed to be stronger than usual.

Stacie didn't look convinced and was about to speak again when I hastily spoke again, "I'll even pick up fresh coffee on the way. Zach'll be mad at you if he's without and you've sacked the only intern who gets it to him on time."

She was about to speak again when I intervened, again. "I'll also get you your favourite chocolates."

Stacie's lips tensed closed for a few seconds, then they opened in a smirky smile, her eyebrow raising. "Fine, you're rehired, but only if you do this all in the next," she checked her watch, "57 minutes. Tick. Tock."

I had sighed in relief and hurried to do my tasks. Luckily I had completed them all within the allotted time, 10 seconds within to be exact. Sometimes I think a stroke of fate kept me on this job until this August, until this unlucky day.

The elevator made another lurch again, the lights came back on. Within a few seconds it was up and moving with the numbers '27' flashing above the door. Still ten more floors to go and already 20 minutes had past. I was way late. I looked down and sighed as I realised this would be my last day working here and might as well already press the button for the lobby. The elevator stopped at 36 and the two men got off, the doors closing. I sighed, just a few more seconds until doomed fate.

I let out a little shriek as my left heel bent to the side, the spike snapping from the sole. These shoes were practically brand new! I sat down in the corner trying to fix the heel when I didn't noticed the door open. One arm juggling the cold half-spilt coffee, and the other holding a bright blue spike that would not reattach to my shoe. I would have to limp into the department as I awaited my unfortunate fate. It was then I felt the elevator's weight go slightly down, thinking someone got on I realised the door must be open. But as I tried to stand my watch got snagged underneath the metal rims in the elevator. Then as suddenly as the weight had sunk down the little room, it lifted but not before I heard a loud metallic sound that shook the air around me.

'Wow, that guy really changed his mind,' I thought.

And it wasn't until I unhooked my watch, stood, and turned that I saw something at the bottom of the elevator room. A huge dent in the metal, and I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding. My eyes grew very wide as I turned my head to the open elevator door, and saw someone jump through the huge glass window at the end of the corridor. The corridor looked exactly like in my nightmares only this was NOT the Estee Lauder building. I gasped in shock as that someone flew so far away I couldn't discern what he was doing or what was happening. The elevator door was closing before I had a chance to find out but before it closed, I saw a small speck on the rooftop ahead fall limp. My jaw dropped as I slid down the elevator wall and stared at the dent.

Instead of asking what could cause that dent to appear in the wall so quickly while I was in there I asked: How the hell did I end up in this building and not where I work?

It was settled. I was fired.

After making my way back down the mysterious building there was a huge commotion around me, like fireants scurrying under an Alabaman rain. Using my quick sense I connected the shattered window incident to the cause of the commotion. I was right. The media's coverage was this building, and the one opposing it. My ears were ringing with their sick drone voices, clacking of cameras, the bustle of the NYPD trying to calm everyone down with no avail, and the veins in my head pumping loudly. My nerves were going haywire as I bumped into people, breaking into my run again.

"Pardon me," I said to everyone I passed by, which must have been hundreds if not thousands. My philosophy was stay out of danger, and if danger came to you, run. So I did. But then again, I always run. And when I can't I'm fast walking. As if that weren't the worst, I was holding my shoes, my barefeet on the gravel, cement, and everything else I didn't want to imagine. The acute pain rising in my feet was nothing compared to the obliterating force that took my breath away; getting fired. I was still worried to death about losing my job.

The city clock struck 9, my eyes immediately shooting towards that abominable sound that mocked me, possibly more so than my superiors did. As I ran down the familiar, yet unfamiliar streets of Manhattan I realised I was in Downtown, and not Midtown where I belonged. How the hell did that happen? I couldn't think straight anymore as I focused on my breathing. After a minute or so my thoughts cleared enough to decide to catch a cab. Only... I was afraid of cabs. I had a huge fear of riding in any sort of vehicle, transportation device, Amtrak with strangers. I tried to shove that fear way down deep inside of me. Just for a moment. A moment enough to stop the cab, get in and tell him my destination before I could chicken out.

I stopped running and looked around me, studying the street signs, trying to find a familiar route back to Midtown. It was impossible. I may be a Yorker, but during my entire life of living in Midtown Manhattan I had never crossed the threshold... never left that middle lane, never took the fork in the road. Not because I chose not to but because no opportunity arose to make it happen, and nobody requested that I leave. Nobody, and nothing, sent me across the divide to another side. Besides I was broke and taking unneccessary trips through unknown territory was not in my agenda.

Now I was HERE. In unknown territory and wondering how the hell I ended up here in the first place. Did I black out while I was travelling? Did someone drug me up? Am I finally going insane? I think back to some more memories as I continue running, heading towards a shop to ask for directions.

2nd day of work, 1st day of being late:

Zach. My boss. He was standing in front of me, giving me the most strange eerie grin. The one that mocked me and every intern that was as awkward as I am. He only frowned at the pretty ones, the ones who he was winking at and slapping their asses behind our backs. It was an insult to be so opposite. An insult to me at least. But I didn't care. He was my boss. Who was I to judge? I just worked for him so no guilt on my moral standards.

"Zach, sire. Good morning." I greeted, handing out my coffee without comment the way he liked it. He never requested coffee more than once. He was constant and I was obliging.

Zach took the coffee, sipped it, grimaced. "Cold, as usual," he complained.

A jolt of disapproval shot through my body, the sight in my eyes zooming in and out. I run half an hour to provide that damned sugar mix. "Perhaps you should considering moving the work building closer to the coffee shop, or better, get a coffee maker."

"Or hire a new intern." He firmly said, giving me that ridiculous smile again that said 'Say one more word and you're fired.'

"Pardon me, sire."

That was the first and only time I ever said anything witty to the boss. After that, nothing. One warning, I listened, I obeyed.

"Your hair... it is so unlikable, have one of my assistant fix it up for you. That colour just so does not go with your eyes, perhaps a ebony black and cut it short, to about here," he held his hand to his ear and I bit my lip and tensed to keep from glaring. This was humiliation! And he was smiling still.

"Oh, you could use some touch ups around the cheeks, here" He reached his finger out to touch my face and I flinched, stepping backwards.

"Pardon me, but I'm allergic to makeup." I lied smoothly, blushing fiercely, hoping he would buy it so I wouldn't get some freak makeover. I was scared shitless of their behaviour towards me, so what kept me going? Ah, my dream of being a fashion designer.

"Allergic to beauty as well." Zach said, smiling again.

I didn't respond, blushing even worse. I looked down gripping my new briefcase nervously and shamefully. So everyone thought I was ugly? I never looked at myself enough to determine the difference... but apparently one glance with these people was enough to judge. I was doomed in their eyes.

"Is there anything you need me to do, sire?" I finally asked after Zach didn't talk.

"Stop calling me 'sire', we're not in England..."

"Pardon me-"

"...Fax this," he handed me a stack of papers, "To these numbers," he put a pink folder on top. It shifted my weight so much I inhaled a sharp breath. The papers must have weighed 50 pounds! "Call my secretary, have her send a beautician for your crisis," he said it so casually I almost winced at the cruelty of it, but I held my ground and obeyed his orders. "And Stacie," Mentioning her name he frowned, "Tell Stacie my desk caved in. That's it. Shoo."

I nodded and turned to carry out his orders, my eye on the faxing room 6 cubicles down the hall, when suddenly I felt cold liquid running down my back. My jaw dropped open and a pitiful gasp escaped my lips, so pitiful that everyone stopped their business to look at me.

"Oh, one more thing. Take a shower. So long."

There were a few giggles, one very loud laugh, and exclamations in the department. I closed my eyes and shuttered, my jaw tensing as I tried not to explode from the intense pressure. It was definitely pay back from getting his coffee cold. I was infuriated. My thoughts? I wanted to take these stack of papers and throw them right in his face, then take his next order of coffee, hot for once, and throw it all over him and see how he likes it. I imagined his bemoaned expression and delirious state, but quickly snapped back into the present and struggled towards the fax room with my blouse stuck to my back.

This humiliation was a common occurrence at work, and I just let it happen.

When I finally made it to the fax room, I set down the papers, opened the folder and sighed, a frown coming to my face. There were at least 200 numbers on the list, and I had to dial each one separately, AND get the right papers to the right contacts. It was a hell of a day. That became a common occurrence as well.

I huffed a huge breath as I smiled, the motion unfamiliar for me but I was pleased somewhat. It was nearing noon and I was at my apartment, without getting mugged, without dying, without passing out from pain. With the instructions at the nearby shop and a new pair of running shoes, I was home, hungry, frizzy, exhausted, messy, and copped out and I hadn't even gone to work. The coffee was long gone, dumped two hours ago when it got ridiculous to hold it when it was almost empty from sloshing all over the place.

I ran straight up the flights of stairs to my room on the 10th floor. My hands jitterbugging, my ankles shaking, I opened all three locks with my keys, and ran in, locking it behind me. But instead of looking for my cell right then, I collapsed on the couch. My whole body was shaking intensely. My mind span circles, and triangles, and squares. My breath would not calm down. I closed my eyes and didn't try to fight the onslaught of worry and nervousness.

"My job!" I suddenly cried out, my hands covering my eyes as I burst out into sobs. "My apartment! My life!"

I gasped and sobbed for several minutes in the darkness of my apartment until I heard the 'buzz' of my cell phone on my coffee table. It took me a few seconds to stop my tears before I could pick up the little compact job killer. My eyes were too blurry and the apartment too dark to make out the caller id so I just answered it.

My voice was squeaky and nasally. "Ms. Carmichael." I stifled a sniff.

There was no answer.

"Stacie, if it's you I'm so sorry I didn't make it... There's so much going on... and I'm sick," I lied.

There was still silence.

"Hello? Hello!"

My eyes widened in horror as two loud bullet shots sounded in my ear through the speaker. I was too stunned to breath, to gasp, to move.

"I see you." a deep voice said, then the dial tone... then dead. Nothing. Silence.

I dropped the phone and passed out.

I awoke sometime later, in my bed, the light usually seeping through the cracks in the windows gone. It was nighttime already, I had a splitting headache, my stomach was heavy and growling. So I lazily fixed myself a pot of soup and ran water for a bath. My eyesight was groggy, my knees weak, my head drumming. I grabbed a pain prescription from the bathroom cabinet without thinking, popping two of the small capsules, swallowing them dry. The events of the day raced through my head in dizzy circles as I poured soup in a bowl, took it to the bathroom, slid my coffee stained clothes onto the floor, and slipped into the warm bath tub with a long sigh. I closed my eyes and leaned back, my arms on the side of the tub. The pain slowly faded and I was taken into another world of darkness, stillness, silence, sleep.

_I ran. My barefeet pounded on the cobblestone street. It was dark but not too much that I couldn't see. I clutched my chest with fear. Why did I run? Was someone was chasing me? Suddenly my feet were pinned to the ground and I couldn't move. Footsteps echoed behind me, slow and deliberate. I tried to turn and face this person. Too late. There was a loud shot fired and my heart stopped..._

I awoke with a gasp. "Oh, God... just a nightmare."

What caused it? It only took two seconds for me to remember my phone call. My hand shot to my lips. My heartbeat was rapid as the bath water moved around me, my throat breaking into soft sobs. Was that phone call real? For the life of me I couldn't tell.

I quickly left the bath, ate my cold soup, drank two full glasses of water and jittery, dressed for bed. I was restless but I dearly wanted to sleep. The events of the day were too much. I couldn't handle it and my palms were sweating. My nerves were wrestling throughout me. My breath shook with every intake. I grabbed the sleeping pills from the cabinet and took four, something I never did. I knew that even one would knock me out enough not to hear my alarm clock. I never heard it without the pills! Why did I not care this time? Oh, that's right! I was surely without a job. That much was clear. That was the only clear thought I had before I slumped under my covers and drifted into sleep.


	3. Another Shock

**Hey,  
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It's been months since I focused on this story... I still remember the main plot line but kind of forget some of the details of Wanted from the movie... So if I am off on date, details, or anything about the FRATERNITY let me know. I'm going from pure memory now and sometimes guessing. =p Anyways, thanks for the supportive reviews... Here's a 'get back on your feet' chapter before the real stuff gets going.**  
><strong>

Review please, appreciate it.

I kind of feel like my character right now... you'll see once you read. Enjoy.

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><p><strong>Chapter 3: Another Shock.<br>**

I woke up at 2 o'clock in the afternoon. My eyes were groggy filled with sleepy wax. My muscles were tense so I stretched far and wide on my bed, yawning loudly. For a minute I couldn't grasp where I was... my apartment room was dark and all I could see were the digital numbers on my alarm clock. I felt like I had slept for days... I hoped I didn't.

Groaning softly I sat up in bed, ignoring the temptation to just snuggle up and sleep some more. My memories were coming back to me... I was fired. There was no doubt. Might as well sleep another week for the hell I'll go through. Dragging my feet across the floor I finally made it to my cell phone which stared at me evilly on the couch cushion, as if gloating and laughing 'You got no job, all 'cause of me! Haha'!. Oh I just wanted to throw that phone out the window. But I did not. It had important contacts on it... my family numbers. Still, a sort of curious feeling swelled up inside of me. I wanted to check the phone to see there were any calls. Then... it hit me.

_"I see you."_

Chills crawled up my back and curled my lips into a frown. I should check my cell for recall, to see if I can trace the call! Suddenly, as if on cue, I jumped from the lighting up of my cell as it started vibrating on my cushion. Damn, too late. I ran towards the device and saw 'Stacie' on the caller I.D. Oh, no!

I answered anyways. For some stupid, insane, out-of-my-mind reason I answered the phone!

"Hello?" My voice was still deep from sleep, barely intelligible.

"Oh, Annie, hi! Are you still sick, hon'? Your head feeling better?"

I froze and almost choked on my next breath. Did Stacie actually sound _concerned_ for me? There was no mistaking that tone in her voice... what the hell! My palms started sweating as I replied truthfully.

"Not really, I've been asleep for more than a day."

"Oh, dear, that's why you haven't been at work. Zach and I want to let you know that you can take the whole week off if need be. However long it takes for you to get well, hon'."

The way she said 'hon' made me cringe, cause she always called Zach that in private. Not a good sign. How could I even believe her sudden change in behaviour? She was obviously joking, making a fool out of me, and wanting me to believe her! If I went back to work in a week like she said there would definitely be humiliation waiting for me. There's no way she is concerned about me! This is crazy... am I really that bad that I am the center for making fun, the bad kind?

"Thanks, Stacie. I just wanted to apologize for not calling in yesterday when-"

"Oh, it's no worries!" Stacie interrupted quite quickly. "Getting your head so banged up like that, anyone would not be calling back sooner than 2 days, hon'. Just call me back when you're ready to return to work and I'll prepare for you."

Still stunned out of my wits, I didn't respond. This was definitely a joke! I didn't want to play along, to 'thank' Stacie again. I wanted to cuss her out and tell her to go where the sun don't shine. But some part of me wanted to play along... and with a sinister thought, I wanted to come up with a plan of my own. A swirling frenzy of ideas started blossoming, ones of humiliating Stacie and Zach, of getting them back somehow! After a while, I sighed in defeat, knowing that I would never have the gumption to actually pull the stunt off. NEVER.

"Annie, are you there?"

She called me Annie... Again. Not Intern, not Bimbo, not Fur-Stack, but Annie. By my real name. This was definitely a trick. I couldn't stop saying that to myself, I just couldn't.

"Yeah, Stacie I'm here. Just getting a headache again. I'll call you, when I'm well."

"Okay, hon'. Sweet dreams and God bless," she made a smooch sound before hanging up the phone.

Okay, that was the straw that broke the camel's back. She smooched! I seriously thought I was dreaming. Just to reassure myself I started jumping on the couch wildly and screaming at the top of my lungs before pinching myself, several times. I was left with a real headache, from using too much energy after just waking up, and with a few welts on my shoulder. I withdrew to my make-shift kitchen while shaking my head. No way was I going to figure out what Stacie had planned for me...

Then... it dawned on me. I'm not fired? Am I? I quickly checked my cell for messages, there were 24. All but one from Estee Lauder Inc. Probably Stacie... With shaking hands I clicked enter to hear the message that was from an unknown caller, holding it up to my ear nervously.

There was silence... no sound, no breathing, no voice. Not even a pin drop. Instantly began a loud crackling that made me gasp with fright, holding the cell away from my ears. An intense chill swept through my body as I waited and waited to see if the crackling would stop or lower in volume. It finally did... and I held my breath in wait, closing my eyes and scrunching my body up, as if waiting for a bomb to explode right next to me.

_"You woke up really late."_

I almost dropped my phone. The voice was very raspy and deep, the same voice that had called me the day before, the same one that had said 'I see you'. How did this person know I woke up late? I started hyperventilating and my fingers tensed around the phone until I forced myself to bring it back up to my ears to hear the rest of the message. I was scared shitless, out of my brains, out of my heart and wits and speech, but I still wanted to listen.

_"You're freaking out. You're that type of person."_

I whimpered from his accuracy... obviously a stalker. Oh, God. This was adding to my life of horrors. How could I possibly fend off a stalker? Who probably wanted to kill me? Or worse, rape me?

_"You're thinking I want to do some crazy, naughty things to you right now. You're wrong."_

It's like he's reading my mind! My eyes dart to the window as if expecting someone to be looking in. How ridiculous, the blinds are shut and the curtains drawn.

_"Go back to work after you're well. Don't tarry far. Become friends with Stacie and your boss or there'll be hell to pay... and the Devil doesn't like those who are... late. Are you late... **Annie**?"_

The dial tone sounded. I dropped my phone. Luckily it only landed one foot onto the kitchen counter. Unlucky that I landed on the floor.


	4. Nice Guy?

**Chapter 4: Nice Guy?  
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It only took me 5 days to get well. Stacie had called me daily, keeping tabs on me on how much better I was, whether I needed someone to come over with soup. After the 3rd call I was delirious and snapped at her on the phone, really just wanting to get her mad so she'd return to normal Stacie and get me truly fired. She had behaved completely offended and even cried a bit, saying that I must be really sick if I was treating her this way. For some reason, I sulked and apologized, inwardly doubtful and cringing. Could I really reduce mean Stacie to tears? It was too impossible to believe. What was even more impossible was the last phone call I received before I decided to go back to work...

"Hello, this is Ann-" I was cut off by a deep chuckle. It made me tense up and get a little back bone. After snapping at Stacie two days before I was still a little tipsy.

_"Sounds like you're back to normal."_

Okay, back bone gone. I might as well be a fish now. "Who are you? What do-" the crackling voice cut me off.

_"Look, before you ask those questions I have a few answers to questions you wouldn't ask."_

My jaw tensed and I breathed in heavily through my nose, trying to calm my rapidly beating heart and crazed nerves. So this weirdo stalker was not trying to scare me this time... perhaps by doing that he was attempting to get into my head and confuse the heck out of me. What if he tries to make me trust him! There's no chance in hell!

_"You know, spacing out isn't that bad, as long as what you're spacing out about is worthwhile."_

"What do you want?" I repeated, a slight lilt of panic in my voice. Okay, majour lilt!

_"I've downloaded a tracking device into your phone, so it doesn't matter what you say, how you say, or where you say it. I know where you are and that's all that matters right now."_

"Shit!" I screamed and got so scared I ran to my window and almost threw my cell phone out. Until I realized I had all my contacts for work on there. Fingers shaking, I forced myself to listen to the rest...

There was another chuckle. It was unnerving. This lunatic was getting amused from scaring the hell out of me. Is this all a game? A sick, twisted sadistic game? Had he told me that on purpose just to see if I would try to throw my cell phone out? What if he knew I wouldn't do it because of my contacts... he had me pushed into a tight, dark corner.

_"You shoulda seen the look on your face when you screamed."_

"Stop stalking me! I'll call the police and they'll track your phone call-"

_"Don't make threats unless you can back them up,"_ he replied harshly._ "Now listen! In two days, you're going to be invited to the Jeorge Memorial Dance by Stacie. Accept the invitation."_

"And what if I don't?" I replied shakily.

There was silence, then a dial tone. If that wasn't enough to make me hysterical I don't know what was. I shut my phone off and left it at home, and headed to the store immediately, a great plan in mind. I was going to transfer all my contacts to a new cell phone and get rid of my current one. It sounded so promising I was uplifted with a bundle of energy to hide the shivers that was currently overrunning me. I was at an electronics store in less than 10 minutes, cell phone package in hand, and ready to pay for it at the register when a man behind me in line tried to strike up a conversation with me.

"Hey," his voice was friendly and deep. I turned around and faced a tall man, but not much taller than my overwhelming figure. He had short light brownish hair and a broad grin, wearing sunglasses, deep blue dress shirt, and black jeans with fancy dress shoes. I was impressed for a minute, actually admiring his looks before I shyly replied.

"Hi," It barely came out in a squeaky murmur. One thing is positive. I NEVER talk to guys. Or anybody for that matter. I am quaky, paranoid, shy, and just completely awkward. I felt so embarrassed at this moment that I blushed instantly, hoping that the two people in line in front of me would hurry up already so I could run home and hide in the closet.

The man let out a deep tenor chuckle and replied, holding out his hand. "I'm Chris."

At first I'm too stunned to react, staring at his hand wearily. Then with a blush I took his hand and he squeezed mine lightly. "Annie," I squeaked out, blushing tremendously.

He nodded and released my hand. "Nice to meet you. Everything faring alright for you? You look a bit flustered."

"Mhm," I answered, a little less squeaky. He didn't seem too bad and so my panicky jittery nerves from before were settling a bit. I tried a few more words, "Thanks for asking." I glanced at the register and there was only one man in front of me so I took a few steps along, glancing back at Chris.

"Do you get out much, Ann?" he narrowed his eyes in concern. "Your skin's so white."

I pursed my lips and shrugged, inwardly basking in the fact that he shortened my already short name. "I g-go to work and back h-home that's all."

"Mmm," he shook his head. "You look like you need a night off. How about joining me for dinner this Friday?"

I froze on the spot. Did he just say what I thought he did? My eyes watered and my palms started sweating, from nervousness and a bit of exhilaration. "Friday?" I asked in disbelief. "That would be nice..." I told him truthfully.

"Good, I'll pick you up at 7 then? I'll need your address."

"I won't be home then!" I lied easily in an almost panicked voice, too weary to give out my address. What if he's not as nice as he seems? My thoughts drifted to my cell phone at home, waiting for me to discard it. Oh come on, if he were a stalker wouldn't he already know your address? Annie, you're so clueless, he's just asking for social purposes! Oh, stop being so paranoid, accept a man's good invitation for once! Stop being such a prune!

"Oh," he replied disappointed. "Where will you be then?"

"Well..." I paused, contemplating what to say. "... We could meet at the restaurant." I offered.

He shrugged. "That sounds good. It's at 1024 Amsterdam Avenue. It's called V&T. I hope you like pizza."

I smiled shyly, remembering how I'd NEVER been to the Pizzeria, ever. "I do."

A loud cough sounded loudly behind me. I turned around and noticed the annoyed look on the cashier's face and I shuffled forward. Giving him the cell phone I started fiddling with my fingers when Chris started talking again.

"You don't have to wear anything really nice, just casual clothes. Like you have right now."

It made me think about what I was wearing. A slouchy business like outfit, pencil skirt to my waist over a very messy, wrinkled white button up shirt, the cuffs upturned. My hair was a messy bun and my shoes were flats, for once.

"Okay," I replied, at a loss for anymore words. I felt like such a dork replying so shortly and shyly. Chris didn't seem too phased and it was then I noticed he was only carrying two items to pay for, a switchbox and x-box 360 controller. It made me laugh inwardly and sigh in sadness. I never get to play video games, or do anything other than work I'm so busy.

"$31.27." The cashier repeated for the tenth time in a bitter voice. I winced and easily slipped my credit card out of my purse, handing it to the rude man cashier. He looked blankly at it before returning it to me. "Only cash and checks allowed."

"What!" I gawked in disbelief. "I've been to this store for ever, there's n-no way-"

"It just changed last week," he interrupted me bitterly.

I frowned and started quaking, wondering if I remembered my checkbook... I'd gone so long without carrying it around, being so used to credit cards at work. I opened my wallet and fumbled around in it, moaning softly in panic. No checkbook. I rummaged through the folds to find dollar bills, but being one who barely scraped by I only found 3 quarters, about a dozen or so pennies, and 5 one dollar bills. My frown deepened and my throat locked up as I realized that I would not be getting out of here with a new cell phone... not until my next pay check this weekend, which was in another few days.

"Don't worry about it," That same tenor voice spoke from behind me and a 50 dollar bill was handed to the cashier by the same hand I had shaken earlier. I turned to him, alarmed, and grateful.

"You don't have to," I said, feeling really bad that someone I just met was paying for my things. How nice!

He chuckled. "Don't mention it. And keep the change, looks like you'll need it."

"R-really, I can't!" I breathed.

He put both hands up in the air and waved my replies away. "No, you can. You need it more than I do. Eh-"

I closed my lips and smiled genuinely before nodding gratefully. My dread of not having a new cell was now erased. I let out a breath of relief. "Thanks, I-I appreciate it." I took the receipt and the change from the cashier and waved a shy goodbye to Chris before exiting the store. Just then thunder started roaring and with my unlucky self, the rain started drizzling down at an incredible speed. I squealed and stepped back underneath the small umbrella like rain cover above the doors and shivered, my shirt already a little wet. It was midday but I was shivering from nerves and being scared. How long was this rain going to last? I couldn't stand here forever...

The jingling sound of the door behind me startled me so much I jumped in fright. I turned around and almost crashed into a tall dark figure and muttered, "Pardon me," twice before realizing it was Chris.

"Woah, relax, it's alright," he answered before looking out at the thick storm clouds above. "Hmm, looks like you're not walking home in this rain."

I eyed him wearily before looking out at the rain wistfully. Usually I would enjoy the rain... but not when I was in a nervous wreck. "Well... I'll just hire a taxi."

"It's obvious by your display in there, that's going to be a problem." He stated.

I whimpered and sighed in defeat. "Yeah, well I can manage with the change you let me have."

He looked at me and shook his head. "How about my chauffeur give you a ride?"

I widened my eyes in alarm from the 'address giving away thing' again. "N-no, I couldn't possibly-"

"I see, I see," he hastily responded in silent apology. "Sorry for alarming you I'm not a dangerous guy, I assure you," he laughed.

I couldn't believe him straight away but I smiled anyways. "Thanks for the o-offer," I stuttered.

"No problem. You're still not getting home without getting drenched... I can buy you an umbrella."

"Pardon me, but that's too much to ask-"

"An umbrella? No, it's not. It's the least I can do," he insisted.

"I-I..." I couldn't speak. I was out of replies. The rain was making my eyes water and I really was impatient to get home and toss my cell! I was being paranoid again, not accepting a ride from a nice guy, not accepting an umbrella! But then again I was told not to trust strangers. "The umbrella will be fine."

He nodded with a pleased smile. "Alright, umbrella it is."

He entered the store and I waited, staring out into the bleak dark raindrops falling onto asphalt. Less than a minute later he emerged from the store holding two umbrellas, one purple and one deep blue. He handed me the purple one. "Th-thanks," I muttered shyly.

"Really, don't mention it. I'll see you Friday then, Ann." He smiled.

I nodded with a smile. "I'll s-see you Friday, Ch-Chris." So I wasn't trusting him now as a stranger, but I'm going to dinner with him Friday? What kind of messed up person am I? Soon it wouldn't matter... he'd have dinner with me Friday and find out how awkward and crazy I am and will never see me again. He waved goodbye and I returned it, before we both opened our umbrellas and headed in opposite directions. I felt the prickling of his gaze on my back but I ignored my urge to glance behind me. Finally when I reached the corner I glanced around and he was glancing my way as well, waving from afar. I blushed and immediately turned back around, pretending I didn't notice him. I turned the corner and headed towards my apartment as fast as I could.

When I finally made it home, only my shoes and legs wet, I realized one majour problem. Friday was in **two days**. I cursed at myself for not thinking of that before. I'd have to ditch my newly met acquaintance and go to the Jeorge Memorial Dance. I **had** to... or else. I trembled at the thought of being controlled by fear and provocation. I hoped that by doing what this 'stalker' told me to I wouldn't come out on the worse end... Oh, God. Why me?!

Why me?!


	5. Hollywood Syndrome

**Chapter ****5: Hollywood Syndrome  
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It's Friday. My first day back at Estee Lauder Inc. My jaw is quaking, my lips quivering, arms shaking with four fresh cups of coffee from Starbucks. Exactly how Zach and Stacie like it, artificially flavoured and splenda filled. I always almost vomited from the smell, especially when it spilled on my skin. My new cell phone is in my pocket. I had successfully moved all my contacts to it in less than an hour or so. I had great relief and comfort in knowing I wasn't being stalked by a tracking device. I had thrown my cell phone in the trash and taken it out this morning for pick-up. With a shuddering sigh I had headed to work early for once.

The ding of the elevator shocked me out of my stupor. I checked my wristwatch and noticed I was minutes early to work. I sighed and took the few steps out of the elevator, head held high, waiting for the onslaught of complaints hurdled at me like every other day as an intern. Instead... ? A young, chipper Stacie running up to me with the brightest smile I'd ever seen on her face.

"Annie, you're well, I'm so glad you're back at work! It was pitiful without you. I thought we were going to crash," She took the coffee from my hand so fast I thought she'd spill it, but she didn't, and it startled me so much I was speechless. She hastily set it on some random counter before embracing me in a chaste hug. Pulling back, she tugged on my arm for me to follow. With widened, alert eyes, I did. I was aware of everyone's gawking eyes, apparently at Stacie's change of behaviour towards me, as we walked towards Zach's office.

"We had many things to prepare while you were gone. Magazine preparations, interviews, dinner dates, laundry, and without you it was just dreadful. I thought we'd never make it through the week."

"Pardon me, Stacie," I replied quickly with shame in my voice. She interrupted me smoothly.

"Oh, don't be silly! We got everything done by working overtime. Don't feel bad. Intern, are those files faxed like I needed you to do?" Her demeanour suddenly changed to fierce iron and I winced, prepared for the avalanche.

"P-pardon me," I stammered, "I wasn't aware-"

"Oh, not you hon'," Stacie chuckled a bit too lightly. It was then I noticed she was looking at another girl standing ten feet behind me, struggling to carry a two feet thick stack of papers. I gulped and shivered at the similarity to my days at work... "I'm talking to my new Intern, Ancherise Meridian. She is so handy, not as handy as you, but very reliable."

"Oh," I mumbled, too shocked to say anymore. She hired a new intern?! Why would she need to do that? Unless I'm fired after all!

"Anyways," Stacie rambled on, clueless to my panicked face. "We have the Jeorge Memorial Dance we've been planning all week. You'll need to attend, I'll have a driver pick you up at 8 o'clock sharp tonight. That will be all your work today, focusing on the tasks for the dance."

"Wh-what?" I stuttered out, jaws gaping as I stopped in my steps. This was too predictable... whoever called me on the phone knew my schedule at work and knew I would be going to that dance tonight... well after being bullied to. What if I said no? What if I said I was busy going to a doctor's appointment or come up with some other excuse? The idea of defying a threat on phone was very tempting, like wanting to make the teacher mad in school. But like usual, I didn't have the gumption to pull through in the scheme.

"Yes, the Memorial Dance! It's going to be the rave. We're going to remember 20 famous celebrities and have quite the pastime experience."

I had no chance to reply, to say 'no I can't come'. So the deal was made... I was getting picked up at my apartment at 8 to go to the dance. "Wait, what is my r-role there, Stacie?" Saying her name still made me shudder, afraid she was going to return to her normal self and snap at me with insults. Again, she didn't... This whole experience was all surreal. Like a dream, but not. "Oh, wait the coffee-" I suddenly snapped, turning around to run backwards and fetch it.

"No, no, silly," Stacie grabbed my arm and I paused, looking at her pleadingly. "My intern will get it, you don't need to. Come on, we have a meeting with Zach, let's not be late."

A meeting with Zach? Oh dear... is this where they drop the marbles and humiliate me? I gritted my teeth together and forced myself not to chatter uncontrollably while I walked with Stacie the rest of the way to Zach's enormous office at the end of the hall. Through the glass windows blinds up I could see Zach lounging in his chair, feet on the desk, staring at the laptop screen boringly. Stacie and I walked in without knocking and she announced our presence.

"Zach, dear. Look who's back!" Stacie held her hands out at me as if showing me off.

Zach looked up from the computer and gave me the most ridiculously large, condescending frown EVER. My teeth chattered, I couldn't help it. I stared in silence, unable to grasp what was happening. Why was he FROWNING? At me?

"Well, hey, welcome back, Annie. We've missed you."

_You've missed me?_ Inwardly I screamed and my breath started coming out in quick pants. I pursed my lips to force the breathing back before putting on a whimpering shy smile for my boss. "G-glad to be back, Zach." Lies... all lies.

He nodded and a few seconds later a clicking noise behind me startled me and caused me to jump. It had been Stacie closing the door, hence leaving me here alone, with my boss. Not good. "What is it you need, Zach?" I asked as kindly as I could.

"Well... " he paused before sitting up in his chair and looking at me intensely. "We have almost everything ready for the dance tonight. Outfits, decorations, catering service, rentals, invitations sent out. I'm just missing one thing and I'll need you for that..."

I waited for him to tell me. He just sat there silently giving me strange looks, occasionally lowering his eyes to hover over my body. I cleared my throat to keep from stuttering, my heart beating rapidly. Failed. "Wh-what would that be?"

"I need a date," he said simply and I almost fainted on the spot. "I was thinking someone about 5'9" with wavy hair, wearing a wristwatch on her right wrist, not her left, clean face, casual, shy. You know anyone like that?"

Do I know anyone like that?! I glanced at my right wrist, looking at my watch. NO. "Um... I don't think so." I shook my head telling yet another lie.

"I think you do," he teased. "She used to be an intern here, if I'm not mistaken."

"Used to be?" I immediately freaked, not being able to hold my panic here. I started rambling at super speed. "I-I'm fired? Oh, I knew it. Pardon me, sir. I totally messed up and got lost, went in the wrong building, spilled all the coffee, lost my cell phone, had to run straight across Manhattan, in heels-"

"Silence!" he shouted, which made me shout my mouth instantly, eyes shaking in terror. "I know you've been sick. Forget about it. You're not an intern anymore because you're promoted. You are now, officially a part of Estee Lauder Inc. No strings attached."

I dropped my jaw in awe. He laughed at me, laughed! Of course I looked silly, and dorky.

"So what about being my date tonight, at the dance? Good, I'll tell Stacie to rearrange the rides. See you at 8 o'clock," He spoke so hastily I had no chance to reply and he had already stood, ushered me to the door and shoved me out of his office. But not before letting his hand lingered on my lower back before giving me a flicker of some strange sensation in his eyes and closing the door. I shuddered and felt like going in there and slapping him for touching me like that. He was a man-whore, one who slept with the young interns, I knew it. I was one of the only two who he hadn't... dammit, now he's eying me. What if all this 'charade' is an act to get me in his pants?! What if Zach bribed Stacie to be nice to me so he could get me to like him? The promotion, the nicety acts, the date at the dance, the new intern... it was all a ruse. Every puzzle piece was coming together in my head, but I could not come up with a good plan to stop it.

Every possibility ended in failure. If I turned Zach down and told him I wasn't going to the dance then I would be fired for real. If I went to the dance with him and he 'wooed' me, and I refused to dance with him or 'cuddle' with him, then he would get mad and fire me. Every solution was not working... and I was panicking. All the while Stacie walked up to me and took my arm, a great smile on her face. "Lets go have coffee," she offered. And I nodded too stunned to speak.

...

We ended up going to Starbucks. GOING to Starbucks! At the beginning of the work day! Stacie and I ended up talking about all the things planned for the dance, and picking out our outfits. She told me we were going shopping that day and parading around town for 2 or so hours before lunch to get all that we needed. She had a dress ironed and laundered, prepared for her, but she wanted to help me. So we ended up going to Macy's and she bought me, I mean it! She bought me a very **expensive** jeweled dress that fit me like a glove. It was daring midnight blue with bow-tie top, flowing down past my hips and trailing behind my back to touch the floor barely. There were silver sparkling gems for the hem, a silver ribbon at my ribcage. It had matching gloves that reached to my elbows as well. It was a tube-top, so I was worried about it falling off, but surprisingly it held up perfectly. I was also conscious about showing off my back and shoulders! Stacie said I was being so silly and that I looked gorgeous, and that with some make up, shoes, and fixing up my hair the package would be complete! I tried saying no... but Stacie being pushy as she was, and me being a run-over, I complied.

By lunch time I had been pampered with manicures, pedicures, facials, and mineral make up to the point where I looked like a fashionista. Looking in the mirror I gawked unreal like, trying to recognize the fashion model in the mirror. Did I really have shimmering cream skin like that? The bold brown eyeliner around my eyes brought out the blue. Are my lips really heart-shaped and pouty looking?! The most shocking transformation was my hair... I had cried and refused for Stacie to highlight my hair. So finally she insisted on just a haircut and curls. The finale was subtle waves at my shoulder blades, parted on the left side so that my hair had maximum volume. There was bangs that reached my ears, curling intensely and casting a bit of shadow over my forehead. Oh, and it made me whimper at the earrings in my ears... Sapphire hearts. I did not look like Annie anymore... Stacie even said so. She said it was about time I used my real name. Not the shortened version.

"Good, now you will come to the dance tonight as Annalyn Fashion Designer, not Annie the Intern." Stacie said. Yup, Annalyn is my full first name. I never tell anyone but it's in my resume.

I squinted harder to try and clear the slight blurriness at the edges and went to my book bag to put on my glasses. "Uh, uh!" Stacie protested, snatching the broad rimmed glasses from my hands. She broke them so fast I gasped and whimpered, watching the spectacles make their way to the trash can. "From now on you're wearing contacts."

So that was the last thing... at 4 that afternoon I had gotten contacts. It was uncomfortable at first. Stacie assured me that by the time of the dance I won't even notice them... I hope she was right. By 6, I was exhausted, having done more in that one day than all my sweaty work days in my entire life. Everyone at work had stopped their tasks to stare at my transformation, even a few whistles from the cream make up department. I had blushed and smiled, soaking up the attention despite the inclinations behind it. Doesn't everyone like a little attention? Finally at home in my apartment I sunk into my couch and closed my eyes, mercifully thankful for the end of a strenuous day.

Another thing about that 'promotion'... it had quadrupled my paycheck. So when I had cashed my money in I almost fainted on the spot. So now instead of barely scraping by I had enough money to put back and save for a greater cause... my dream at becoming a true fashion designer.

...

It's 6:43. I almost forgot about meeting that guy I met, Chris, at the pizzeria! I would have to tell him I couldn't stay more than half an hour. He'd be ditched... but at least I would be safe. Something else Stacie had done while we were out 'shopping'... She'd bought me an entire new wardrobe. Three outfits that were, simple to say, extremely daring and 'enticing' for lack of more dirty slang words. I had been trying one outfit on when I glanced at the clock and freaked out, immediately combing my pampered hair with my fingers and rushing out of my apartment as fast as I could. I hired a taxi and told him the address, fiddling with my fingers as I waited to arrive.

I got there at 5 minutes until 7. With a 'phew' I waited outside of the Pizzeria. Everything felt like a rush. The entire day felt like an hour... now these 5 minutes felt like eternity while I tapped my feet nervously on the pavement, staring at the sparkly new green pumps.

"Hey, Annie!" I looked up startled to see Chris with a big smile.

"H-hi!" I stuttered out with a shy smile, blushing.

"Wow, breathtaking," he complimented me, looking over my body, and my blush grew deeper.

"Th-thanks," I stuttered nervously.

"Well, time to go in then," he held out his arm and I nervously wrapped my arm around it.

I saw my reflection in the glass as we both turned around to enter V&T. Oh, God what _was_ I wearing?! Of course he would say 'breathtaking'! I would NEVER wear something like this without Stacie buying it for me first!

I was wearing metallic silver skin-hugging leggings down to the ankles, Tori V-Neck Leopard-Print dress that was modified to be mid-thigh, and the sparkly green pumps. I was holding a matching leopard-print coin purse. I looked like one of those models for Vogue, only without the megaton of make-up! I was so stunned, Chris nudged me gently. "You alright?"

"Oh, yes," I smiled nervously and we entered the V&T. I totally forgot about ditching him for a second, too entranced by this new look I had. I had this urge to flaunt my figure and make myself look very good for this Chris, and try not to be so awkward. I guess I had the 'Hollywood' syndrome... I had always seen in movies the girls who get transformed like this and turn into bitches. I thought I was immune to that... but this swelling sensation in my breast, the one that tells you 'you're beautiful, you're hot, you're a knock out, and you like to be liked' just kept swelling, and swelling like a balloon of something lighter than even helium! _I don't know if I'm on the road to Bitchland. But I do know that I'm starting to like this attention..._

Boy was I in for a surprise.


End file.
